And The Earth Moved: Romantic Comedy Cozy Mystery (Amber Reed CCIA Mystery Book 1)

by Zanna Mackenzie

  No, scrap that. It was exceptional. The earth definitely moved - and this time it had nothing to do with earth tremors or quarry explosions.

  “I have to leave,” he says, snapping me out of my reverie.

  “Oh?” I squeak. Casual voice. Casual voice I recite to myself silently. “Something personal or…” It isn’t working. My voice is still squeaky.

  “Work,” he answers immediately. “It’s work. I’m sorry,” he adds. “I thought we’d get more time together but something has happened and I’m needed right away on another assignment.”

  I clear my throat and try for non-squeaky voice again. “Where?”

  “Los Angeles. They want me on the flight out this evening.”

  “Oh, right. So, LA eh? Which celebrity are you solving a crime for this time?”

  “I can’t say,” he replies in a quiet voice, staring again at his phone and his hands.

  “If we were involved, would you be able to say then?”

  The light comes back into his eyes briefly and a smile creeps across his lips. “If we were involved? What on earth do you do with a guy before you say you’re involved with him?” he teases. “I think, after last night, we can safely say we’re involved.”

  “So this is it?” I say, staring at my feet which are red and blotchy from the piping hot power shower.

  “What? No.” He seems offended at my words.

  Did he really just say no, that it’s not over between us? “No?” I clarify.

  “Definitely not. I’m not giving up on you that easily.” He looks at me, properly, deep into my eyes. “Unless you don’t want us to...”

  “I want,” I reply. “I want us very much. But with your work you’re always in different places which will make a relationship tricky.”

  “But not impossible,” he finishes. “Look, this is probably a long shot but I’m going to ask anyway.”

  I swivel round on the bed to face him, careful to keep one hand clasped to my towel as I do so. Now would definitely not be a good time to flash him thanks to a slipped bath towel.

  “Ask what?” I say.

  He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a rush. “I have a proposal.”

  Proposal? My own breath catches in my throat. No, he can’t mean… Can he?

  “What kind of proposal?” I manage to mutter.

  Part of me really hopes it’s not that kind of proposal. Not only because we’ve only just got together and technically it’s too soon. I’m also thinking I don’t want to look back on my first marriage proposal and picture myself sitting on the edge of a bed in a towel with messy hair and blotchy feet.

  I remember a conversation between us up on the cliffs during our picnic. Charlie saying maybe my knight in shining armour had arrived. Did he mean himself? Is he my brave knight? In some ways, undoubtedly yes. In others, I’m not so sure.

  “I’ve enjoyed working with you these past few days,” he says. “I think you’ve got real potential with this investigation stuff. You question things. You’re great with people and getting them to open up to you, confide in you and trust you. You’re brave and stubborn and smart.”

  I nod. Unsure what to say and still wondering what he’s about to propose.

  “The CCIA,” he continues, “are always after support operatives. People who do exactly what you’ve been doing with this case but they’re on the payroll. I think you could be brilliant at the job. In fact, I know you would be. You’ve known Ennis for years and are used to being around famous people. You don’t come over all star-struck which is another big plus in this line of work. If you wanted to go for it and you do get accepted by the agency then you’ll be sent on an intensive training programme.”

  “You’re proposing I apply to work for the CCIA as a support officer?” I say, my throat feeling constricted. That’s his proposal? That we make our working relationship official?

  He nods, taking my hands in his. Well, one of them. The other is still holding tight to my towel.

  “Would I be trained to drive like you and use a gun?” I ask.

  His face breaks into a smile. That smile. I love that smile. Maybe it’s too soon to be in love with the man sitting beside me but I know I love that smile.

  “No, not yet anyway,” he says, stroking a thumb across the palm of my hand. “If you want to do that training later, convert from support officer to investigative officer, then yeah, you’ll get to do the other stuff.”

  “I confess a tiny part of me has wondered if something like this might be an option these past few days,” I say. “I’m surprised but I’ve loved every minute – well, maybe not the jumping off a quarry ledge bit – of being a part of this investigation with you. I finally got to put being nosy to good use. But, even if I applied and got accepted, do I want to leave Palstone and my life here? It’s a lot to think about.”

  My life is here. My friends. My family. My work. My little flat. My alter ego Madam Zamber.

  Charlie squeezes my hand and continues, as though he can read my thoughts. “I know you love this place and you might not fancy the idea of working for the CCIA and having to be away from home all the time.”

  “If I did and I was accepted,” I say. “Would I be assigned to work with you?”

  “I’d make sure you were.”

  He encloses my hand in his and squeezes in an encouraging way. “I know you can do this. It’s just if you want to do it or not. If you want to work with me. Work with the CCIA. It would mean everything in your life would change.”

  Do I want that? I don’t know what I want right at this moment. Except for the man sitting next to me. I’m certain I want him in my life.

  Charlie leans forward and peers at me as though he’s trying to read my mind again. “So, what do you think? Do you want to do this?”

  Just a few days ago I was sitting at my desk at the Palstone Courier making up horoscopes and wanting something exciting to happen for myself and all of the other Gemini’s out there. Was it really only a few days ago? So much has happened since then it seems like a lifetime ago. I stare into his deep blue eyes. “Right now, I don’t know.”

  The end…..

  or is it just the beginning?

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  Amber Reed CCIA Mystery Book Two – grab a copy on Amazon!

  Read on for an extract from Precious…..

  Precious

  Amber Reed CCIA Mystery Book Two

  Who would want to murder a former pop star?

  When celebrities need a crime solved they call in the experts – the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency, otherwise known as the CCIA…

  Who would want to murder former pop star Flynn Garrison?

  That’s exactly what Amber Reed, the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency’s newest recruit, needs to find out.

  She’s desperate to get to grips with her first assignment and prove she’s up to the job but there’s a lot at stake… and it’s not only her new career that’s on the line.

  Is mixing business and pleasure ever a good idea? Will her relationship with fellow CCIA agent Charlie survive the challenge of the two of them working together?

  And then there’s agent extraordinaire Martha, a man-eating six foot blonde goddess, also assigned to this murder investigation, who clearly has designs on Charlie.

  Trying to uncover who killed Flynn and why whisks Amber from glamorous red carpet film premiere, to learning Scottish dancing at a Highland party in a grand country house - and the distinct possibility of becoming the murderer’s next victim.

  Can Amber solve the case and still keep her relationship with Charlie on track?

  Read on….

  Chapter One

  “So is this your first time?”

&n
bsp; I nod and turn away, feeling decidedly queasy.

  “It could be worse,” the man continues. “My first time, there was blood everywhere and…”

  “OK thanks I’ll sort things from here, Constable McKenna,” Charlie says, strolling over and interrupting the local policeman before things get too gory.

  Charlie slips a hand into mine and leads me away from all the commotion and, much to my relief, away from the dead body. The wind is whipping up white tops on the waves as we walk slowly along the stretch of pristine pale sand. Who knew beaches in the wild and isolated islands of the Scottish Outer Hebrides looked like this? We could be on a beach in the Caribbean if it wasn’t for a bitingly cold wind and the miles of moorland and desolate nothingness which surround us.

  But we aren’t. We’re on the island of Farra because Flynn Garrison, the former pop star who made women around the world drool over his gorgeousness, who quit at the height of fame to become a scientist and TV presenter, has been found dead, washed up on this very beach.

  Just over six months ago I started my employment at the Celebrity Crimes Investigation Agency - otherwise known as the CCIA - where Charlie works. I finished my support officer training last week and this is my first assignment. It looks as though I’m not prepared – emotionally or mentally – for coming face to face with a dead body yet though. Are you ever?

  “You OK?” Charlie asks, turning to face me.

  I nod but stare out to sea. The sea which has just washed up a dead man.

  “No you’re not.” He pulls me into a hug and much as I need a cuddle right now I feel a flicker of embarrassment and awkwardness. Are the other guys on the beach – the police, some medical people and a few locals having a nose at what’s going on – all laughing at me right now? Laughing at the agency officer sent to help investigate a death when she can’t even cope with seeing the victim. The woman who needs to go off and have a cry whilst getting a cuddle from her fellow CCIA agent and – though they don’t know this – also her boyfriend.

  “It’s perfectly normal,” he continues, as he strokes hair out of my eyes. “I’d love to be able to say it gets easier with time but the truth is it doesn’t. It does help a little if you try to focus on the fact we’re here to work out what happened to him and, if it is murder, then find out who did this and get them locked up.”

  I bury my face in Charlie’s jacket and sniffle, fighting back the tears. He says nothing, just holds me.

  What seems like an eternity later a voice says, “Er, excuse me, sorry to interrupt but…”

  We turn to see one of the medics looking at us. I hastily wipe my eyes with the back of my sleeves and try to put a capable and professional expression on my face.

  The woman looks at me. “Are you all right, sweetie?” she asks in a strong Scottish accent. “Did you know the man?”

  “No.” I sniff and try to get a grip of my whirl of emotions. “I’m the support officer on the case. I work for the agency, CCIA.”

  “Oh, right, sorry, I…”

  Charlie chips in to explain. “First case, first time seeing a dead body.”

  The woman gives me a sympathetic smile. “Ahhh, I see. Sorry.”

  “So, any ideas what happened to him?” Charlie asks with a nod towards the screened off area where our victim is.

  “It looks as though he could well have been strangled,” she says. “Then he fell or was put in the water somewhere. Could have been inland, edge of a tidal river or something and the body was washed to sea at high tide. The local police will look into tidal patterns and then we’ll have a better idea. I definitely don’t think we’re looking at an accident or suicide here though.”

  “Pretty much as we expected then.” Charlie shoves a hand into the pocket of his jeans. “Thanks for letting us know.”

  “We’ll remove the body and carry out some proper tests back at the medical centre. I have your mobile phone number, Mr Huxton. I’ll be in touch as soon as I have any further news.”

  “Thanks,” Charlie nods. “And please, it’s Charlie, not Mr Huxton.” He turns to me and adds, “And this is Amber.”

  “OK then, Charlie and Amber it is. If we’re on first name terms then I’m Gwyn.” The woman leans forward and places a hand on my arm. “Why don’t you head back to wherever you’re staying, sweetie and get a nice soothing cup of tea and take it easy for a little while eh? It’s always a bit of shock, you know, seeing the victim. If you want I can give you a sleeping tablet or something to calm your nerves?”

  I shake my head. “Thanks but I’ll be OK.”

  Gwyn nods. “Fine but if you do need me for anything just ring.”

  Charlie wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Thanks, we will.”

  “Let’s go back to the bed and breakfast for a while. I want to call a few people and there’s some stuff we need to look up on the Internet as well,” Charlie says. “Might be best to see if we can rent a cottage too, it looks as though we could be here longer than originally expected.”

  We make our way up the beach towards the hire car and I look away as the screens are removed and the body, now covered, is taken to the waiting ambulance.

  “Do you think he suffered?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper. Why am I asking the question? Whatever answer I get from Charlie won’t change what has happened here or the way I feel.

  “I don’t think so. It would probably have been fairly quick,” he answers. I’m not sure if it’s the truth or whether he’s just trying to placate me.

  I stop and look at him. There’s concern in his eyes. Whether it’s just for my mental and emotional health or also about my ability to do this job I’m not sure. Charlie is the reason I’m here; the reason I work for the CCIA. If I get this wrong, if I’m not up to doing this job, it will reflect badly on him.

  We reach the car and climb inside. I pull on my seatbelt, glad to be out of the fierce wind. “Right now, I just need to get back to our room and you can make me a strong cup of coffee.”

  Charlie pulls the car away from the beach and sets off along the single track road, back towards our village B&B. “You’ve got it,” he says, flicking on the windscreen wipers as it starts to rain and then resting a hand on my thigh. “I’ll even let you finish the choc chip cookies.”

  By the time we’ve reached the B&B the rain is torrential. The weather around here changes in a millisecond. We grab our coats and make a dash from car to building. The B&B is in a grey and unattractive property. From what I’ve seen most buildings around here are built for practicality and to withstand the ferocious gales and storms – aesthetics clearly aren’t a priority.

  “Ah, good, you’re back.” Bethan, the woman who owns the B&B, says as we dash into the entrance hall, dripping rain all over the carpet. She’s standing behind the little reception desk and next to her is a stunningly attractive woman in jeans and a close-fitting jumper, a suitcase at her feet. “I was just talking to Martha here about how you were both down at the beach with the murder victim.”

  Strange – does she usually welcome guests by telling them about bodies washing up on the local beach?

  “It hasn’t been confirmed as murder,” Charlie says, following me inside, head down as he pulls off his wet coat. “Not officially.”

  The beautiful woman steps forward, ignores me and envelopes Charlie in a hug, catching him off guard. “Charlie!” she squeals excitedly. “It’s ages since we’ve worked together. So good to see you again!”

  Did she just say “work together”?

  I watch as Charlie hugs her back, meeting my questioning gaze over her shoulder.

  “Martha, what are you doing here?” he asks once she’s eventually disentangled herself from him.

  “The agency sent me to help you out with this case.” Martha casts a dismissive look in my direction. “They wanted their best agents working up here. So,” she shrugs her shoulders in a here-I-am way, “they sent me to work with you. I understand this is Amber’s first case and we don’t want her
getting all overwhelmed on an important job like this do we?” She giggles and pushes a hand through her long honey-coloured hair.

  “This might be Amber’s first case but she’s more than capable…” Charlie starts to reply and I step forward, interrupting.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Martha,” I say, whilst thinking the agency don’t trust me. They don’t think I’m capable of doing this.

  Do I think I’m capable of doing this?

  They’ve sent Miss Beautiful CCIA Agent to work with Charlie. I’ll probably be relegated to fetching her cups of coffee and typing up her paperwork.

  “Anyway,” Miss Beautiful continues, “the boss wants a thorough investigation and expects us to be on this godforsaken island for a while so I’m told the guys back at base have arranged a rental cottage for us all to share. If you want to get packed and meet me back down here then I’ll lead the way to our new home. Ten minutes OK?”

  Fantastic.

  Not only do my new employers not trust me to do my job, they send another agent, a very beautiful one with a superior attitude, to work with Charlie and me on this case.

  Oh, and we all get to share a rental cottage together as well.

  I was so wrong when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse…

  Chapter Two

  “Don’t put that in here,” I say as I reach for my suitcase which Charlie has just dumped on the double bed next to his own holdall. The cottage which the guys at the CCIA have booked for us has three bedrooms. It too has the grey utilitarian look on the outside but thankfully inside it’s modern, bright and cosy. Miss Beautiful CCIA is currently singing as she unpacks in one of the bedrooms. I, however, am scowling as I haul my case from the bed back to the floor.